True Love's Kiss Can't Break the Spell
by Ivi Poison
Summary: When Regina's inability to face her feelings ends her relationship with Emma, she takes drastic measures to protect herself. {Swan Queen}
1. Drastic Measures

The alarm went off, and Emma slammed her hand down on the snooze button before reaching over to the other side of the bed to drape her arm around Regina. They'd been dating for a few months now, and it was intoxicating. Maybe it was cliché, but Emma had never felt this way about anyone before.

But she would never say that out loud. And neither would Regina. They skirted around the subject; they didn't need to say I Love You to know that it was true. Or at least that's what Emma told herself. If she were honest, it would be nice to hear those words out loud, or to say them. But Emma had never been one for admittances or feelings or _love_.

Regina, though…she took it to an entirely different level. She hid from her feelings almost like she was afraid of them. Afraid of what, Emma wasn't sure. But she knew by now to expect the laughter to suddenly stop, the light in her eyes to dim, her smile to drop, the shutdown of emotions and the quick excuse to leave the room. She needed to help Henry with his homework, or she needed to go to her office for a little while, or she'd just realized they were out of milk and it was imperative that she go out to get more immediately. And Emma knew better than to offer to come along.

So when her arm hit nothing but mattress, Emma wasn't surprised. She wasn't hurt or even disappointed, really. Regina had a habit of doing this just when they were starting to become closer. Just when Emma felt she might be on the verge of hearing those three words. Maybe that was why she left: she was afraid of saying them.

Regardless, Emma didn't feel like sleeping anymore. She turned off the alarm, pulled on some clothes, and headed downstairs. Henry had already left for school, so it should be just her and Regina. If Regina were actually home. She glanced down at her phone, wondering if she should shoot her a text.

It wasn't necessary. Regina was sitting alone in the kitchen, wearing one of her weirdly sexy pantsuits, papers spread out across the table. She didn't look up when Emma entered the room.

"Regina?" Emma said.

"Oh, good morning," Regina said. She still didn't look up. Emma stood there for a second, frowning. She wasn't sure whether to press this or to just leave it be. Normally it was the latter. Regina always came around eventually, but lately this had been happening more and more often, and Emma wasn't sure how much longer she could take it. She'd handled rejection all her life, but she wasn't used to this constant back and forth, this constant wondering if Regina wanted her or if she didn't. Maybe it was time they talked about it.

"What are you working on?" Emma asked.

"Oh, you know," Regina said vaguely. "Just boring mayoral duties. Nothing for you to concern yourself with."

The icy tone in her voice almost made Emma give up right then and there, but once she'd made up her mind, there was no stopping her. "Really? It's a bit early for that, don't you think?"

Now Regina turned to look at her. Her face was cold and unmoving. "Since when are you concerned with how I spend my time? You don't know anything about what I do. Being mayor is a 24-hour job, Miss Swan."

Regina hadn't called her that in months. _'Miss Swan?'_ _Really? That's how you're going to address the woman you're sleeping with?_ Emma could feel herself getting angrier. "Well, why don't you tell me about it, then." She walked over to the kitchen table – or maybe 'stalked' would have been a better word – and straddled a chair in exactly the way she knew Regina hated most. Petty? Probably. Whatever.

Regina's eyes narrowed. "I don't think you could possibly understand the importance of what I'm doing."

"Yeah?" Emma said, narrowing her eyes right back. "So what _are_ you doing? Signing marriage licenses? Approving land grants? Tell me, what is so important that you're up at 7:30 to do it?"

"You know what?" Regina snapped. "It's none of your business what I'm doing." She stood and started to gather up the papers. "Thank you for interrupting my _very important work_. I suppose I'll have to go to my office if I want to get anything done."

"Nope," Emma said. She reached across the table and managed to grab a few papers before Regina could pick them up.

"Give those back," Regina demanded. "Those are mine."

"What is this?" Emma asked, ignoring Regina entirely as she shuffled through the papers. "This is – "

"I said, give them back," Regina snarled. At first Emma thought she might actually leap across the table, but instead she started walking around it. The look in her eyes was like nothing Emma had ever seen before. Emma had never really been scared of Regina, not even when she'd seen her as the Evil Queen, but now? Now she was downright terrified. But she'd be damned if she was going to give up now.

"This is gibberish, Regina," Emma said, holding up the pages. Her voice was shaking, but out of anger more than fear. "These are just random webpages. Photocopies of pages from different books. You couldn't even have made it look real? It's almost insulting."

Regina ripped the pages out of her hands. Emma let her. "I told you, you wouldn't understand. It may not look important to you, but –"

"Enough!" Emma was almost shouting now, and Regina looked startled. Her icy composure dropped a bit as she leaned backwards. They'd been almost touching, so close that Emma wasn't sure if she wanted to argue with her or kiss her. "Stop lying to me, Regina! You woke up early to avoid me. You've been avoiding me on and off for weeks, and you've started going to ridiculous lengths to do it. Like really? Printing off random stuff to make it look like you were working so I would leave you alone? So why, Regina? What's going on?"

"I…" At first Emma thought she was going to finally admit her feelings. But the icy expression returned almost as quickly as it had vanished. "I'm _not_ avoiding you. You just don't understand the concept of occasional personal space."

"_Occasional?_" Emma snorted. "Regina, this goes way beyond personal space. You wake up before me, sometimes hours before, and you go to work and stay there until after Henry and I have already had dinner. But sometimes you don't go to work at all because you want to spend the day with me. And some days you're all over me, but sometimes I touch you and you stiffen and make up some excuse to leave."

"That is the very definition of personal space, dear," Regina said, enunciating each word like she was talking to a child. "Some days I need it. Other days I don't."

"Then why haven't you talked to me about it?" Emma asked. "Why can't you just say 'oh hey, Emma, gonna be at work late today.' Or even just reply to my texts asking when you're coming home. Why are you making me guess whether or not I'll even be seeing you on any given day? Why do you have to ignore me completely instead of just giving me a heads up? Or do you even know when you're going to need some _personal space_?"

"Because I…" Regina looked trapped. She didn't have an answer, and Emma knew it. "_Fine_. Maybe I _am_ avoiding you. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Why?" Emma demanded, ignoring the question. She wasn't sure what Regina thought she was going to gain by finally stating the obvious after weeks of feeding her lies upon lies.

"Well, why do you think, Emma?" Regina said, voice dripping with ice. "What possible reason could I have to want to avoid you?"

"No," Emma said. "You're not going to turn this around on me. You're going to give me your reason." Now she was afraid again, but not of Regina. Afraid of what Regina was going to say. Could she have been wrong about what feelings she was trying to hide?

Regina leaned in and practically spat, "Because I don't want to be with you."

And maybe that was true or maybe it was just Regina trying to dodge her feelings, but it hurt. It hurt worse than feeling abandoned by her parents for 28 years, it hurt worse than Neal abandoning her to have a baby in a jail cell; it hurt because it was _Regina_, the person she cared about as much as she'd ever cared about anything.

The hurt must have shown on her face, because Regina's expression dissolved in an instant. "Emma – "

"Don't," Emma said. She didn't want to hear anything else Regina had to say. She didn't want to hear her say she didn't mean it, or that she was sorry, or – god forbid – that she really had meant it. And she wasn't sure why she was shaking her head so hard, and she barely recognized the tears running down her cheeks as she slammed her eyes shut. Emma Swan wasn't one for feelings, or love, or crying. But it was happening, and she knew she had to get out of there. So she turned and she ran for the door.

"Emma, no, wait." She could hear Regina behind her. "Please wait."

Instead, Emma slammed the door in her face. She knew it wouldn't really stop her, but damn if it didn't feel good. Her eyes were blurry, and she almost tripped running down the steps.

"Emma!" Regina called again. The note of desperation in her voice caused Emma to turn around. Regina had stopped and was standing on the porch, bracing against a pillar like it was the only thing supporting her. "Please. Come back inside."

"Why?" Emma asked. She ran her sleeve across her face to get rid of the tears. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I…" She paused. Emma knew it was hard for her to get the words out. She waited. "Because I didn't mean that. I do – I do – you know…please come back inside." Regina was so pale that she looked like she was going to either cry or pass out.

Emma shook her head. "No. I don't care if you didn't mean it. You said it, Regina. You said it and you didn't care how it would make me feel."

"But I –" Regina started.

"I don't care!" Emma said again. She knew she was going to start crying again if she didn't get out of there fast. "Regina, I told you, I don't care if you didn't mean it. I can't be with somebody who thinks it's okay to say something like that. With somebody who avoids me half the time and plays with my emotions like I'm some kind of a game."

"What are you saying?" Regina asked quietly.

"I'm saying…" Emma paused and took a deep breath. She knew what she needed to say. She just didn't want to say it. "Regina, I don't want to be with you."

And she could feel the tears welling up again, so she turned and she walked to her Bug. Regina didn't try to stop her. She didn't speak. But as Emma drove away, she saw her still standing on the porch, tears falling down her face.

* * *

Emma was grateful that Mary Margaret didn't ask any questions when she knocked on the door to the loft. She knew how she must have looked – barefoot and dressed only in a nightgown, eyes red and puffy. But her mother just guided her over to the couch and let her sit down. Emma knew she should have thanked her, but all she could seem to do was stare numbly at the wall. She barely even registered her mother sitting down next to her until she felt a hand on her shoulder and jolted at the touch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mary Margaret asked softly. Emma shook her head.

"No. No, I…no." How could she talk about it? She'd just ended what was both the best and the worst relationship of her life. And that choice was absolutely on her. Regina had asked her to come back and she'd said no.

But she knew she'd had every right to. What Regina was doing to her, the way she was treating her, it just wasn't fair. It was bound to happen eventually. Emma could handle not saying I Love You – in fact she almost preferred it. She loved relationships where the connection was so strong, so palpable, that they didn't need words to know it was real.

She'd thought she had that with Regina.

Mary Margaret nodded and gave her an encouraging smile that Emma was just not in the mood for. "I understand. If you change your mind, I'll be here."

Emma barely even registered her standing up and walking away.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there for. All she could think about was Regina. She missed her already. She'd missed her from the second she was out of sight. And she couldn't help but wonder if she'd made a mistake. There was no denying that what Regina was doing was ridiculous, but maybe she hadn't given her enough of a chance. After all, this was the first time Emma had let on how much it was bothering her. She'd let it fester until it was too much.

Maybe if she'd just stayed, Regina would have listened.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret's urgent tone snapped her out of it, and she looked up at her mother. "Emma, Henry just called me. He says we need to go to Regina's right away."

Emma shook her head slowly. "No. No, he just wants to…no."

"Emma, I don't think it's about you," Mary Margaret insisted. "He seemed really worried. I asked him to come here instead, but he said he didn't want to leave her."

"Leave her?" Emma repeated. Worry overruled her heartache, and she stood. "What's going on? Is she okay?"

"Henry doesn't know," Mary Margaret said. "But he sounded very upset. He said he needs to show us."

Emma nodded. Her head was spinning with emotions and she didn't even know if she could handle this, but she couldn't just stay here when Regina might be in trouble.

And Regina had better be in trouble, because if this was just some attempt to get his moms to reconcile, Henry was going to be the one in trouble.

"All right," she said, hoping her mother couldn't hear the tremor in her voice. "Let's go."

* * *

Everything seemed normal when they pulled up to the mansion. If it weren't for the pounding in Emma's ears drowning out all other sound and making it impossible to think, she could almost have been returning from a grocery run, or from Henry's school, or from –

Henry was racing across the lawn towards their car, grasping something in his hand. It was obvious that he'd been waiting for them, and Emma noted that he did look very worried. She was out of the car before Mary Margaret even turned off the engine, and Henry did a double take upon seeing her. Emma realized she looked worse than she thought, and winced at the thought of Regina seeing her like this.

"Mom," Henry said. "Grandma. I'm so glad you're here."

"What's going on?" Emma asked sharply. She cast a glance towards the mansion. Regina's office was visible, but Regina wasn't in it. Henry frowned, studying her face. He looked like he wanted to ask questions, but something else was more important.

"When I came home from school, she was in the kitchen. I came home from school early because this speaker we were supposed to have didn't show up, and she didn't notice me come in. Her back was to me, and I saw her drink something."

"Okay?" Emma said, knowing she sounded more abrasive than she should. "So what?"

Mary Margaret gave her a look and said quickly, "Okay, Henry, what next?"

Henry looked from one face to the other, clearly still trying to figure out what was going on. "So I don't mean she was drinking a glass of her apple cider. I mean she was drinking this."

He held out a vial that was empty except for a bit of blue residue. Emma took it, frowning, and held it up so it glistened in the sun. "A potion?"

"Yeah," Henry said. "And I don't know what it did, but something's really wrong. She isn't acting like herself. I went backwards, really quietly so she wouldn't know I was there, and made a lot of noise coming in like I'd just gotten home. She smiled at me, but it wasn't like a real smile. It was like the smiles she used to give me when…you know, and she said hello and then just walked out. I could see her holding the vial behind her back, and I don't think she even realized I was following her. She put it down in her office and I waited in the dining room until she got up, then grabbed it and called you."

"Well, we don't have any way of knowing what it is," Emma said. "But we should find out. Maybe we can just, you know…ask her?" The thought of seeing Regina so soon terrified her, but Emma couldn't just let her gulp down a potion that did god-knows-what without making sure she was safe.

"That won't work," Henry said, shaking his head. "I told you, she's not acting like herself. She'll never tell us. She probably wouldn't even tell us anything if she _hadn't_ taken whatever this is."

"Wouldn't tell you, maybe," Emma said. She didn't tell him that she didn't think Regina would normally tell her either, but given the events of this morning, it was far more likely she'd get some honesty out of her. "But I think she'll talk to me."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mary Margaret said.

"Mom, it'll be fine," Emma said, turning towards her. "I can take care of myself."

"No. It's not that," Mary Margaret said quietly. "I think I might know what it is. Hand it to me." Emma handed it to her without a word, and she and Henry watched as Mary Margaret slowly raised it to her face and sniffed.

Then Mary Margaret gasped, and her face turned pale.

"What?" Emma asked urgently. "What is it?"

"It's – " Mary Margaret started, but she was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

"Henry?" Regina called. "What are you doing out here?"

Emma was struck by how composed she looked. If Henry's reaction to her had been indicative of anything, she looked a horrible mess. And it was unsurprising, given she'd been sobbing uncontrollably for the past five or six hours. But Regina didn't look like she'd been crying at all.

And if Emma's heart was pounding as Regina walked down the steps and towards them, Regina didn't seem to take notice. In fact it seemed like she didn't even notice Emma at all.

"Mary Margaret," Regina said curtly, stepping between her son and Emma.

Mary Margaret pressed her lips together, staring at Regina with what could almost have been fury. "Regina."

"…Regina?" Emma asked, voice shaky.

Regina turned to face her, looking her up and down with a sneer curling up the corner of her mouth. "And you are?"

_What?_ Emma was so shocked she didn't know what to say. What was going on? Was Regina still playing games? She'd thought that would have ended with the events of this morning.

"Mom?" Henry asked uncertainly, looking from one parent to the other.

"Never mind," Regina said, turning back to Henry after another moment of staring at Emma. "Come on. Let's go back inside."

"But – " Henry started to protest, looking at Emma and Mary Margaret with fear and confusion.

"It's fine, Henry," Mary Margaret said quickly. "Just go."

"As if he needs your permission," Regina snorted. "Good day, Miss Blanchard, and...whoever you are."

With that she turned, and Henry allowed himself to be led up the steps, looking back at the rest of his family all the way up until Regina practically slammed the door behind them.

Emma, mouth agape, turned to her mother, who was grasping the vial so tightly her fingers were turning white. She'd been expecting tears, the cold shoulder, maybe outright fury, but not this. "What was that? What just happened?"

"It's a memory potion," Mary Margaret whispered, staring at the bottle in her hand. "She has no idea who you are."


	2. Stakeout

"I'm going in after her," Emma said immediately. She was furious. How could Regina do this to herself? To her, to Henry, to their family? She didn't know how she was going to reverse what Regina had done, or if it was even possible, but she was sure as hell going to try.

"Emma, wait! No," Mary Margaret said, catching her daughter's arm as she started towards the walkway. "You can't."

"Why not?" Emma demanded, turning back to her mother. "It's a spell, so true love's kiss, right? I think I can handle that." Although to be honest, she still wasn't quite sure if true love was what they'd had. But it had to be worth a shot.

"Because…" Mary Margaret bit her bottom lip. Closing her eyes, she let go of Emma's arm. "Because I've done this before."

Emma blinked. That was the last thing she'd expected to hear. "What?"

"I've done this before," Mary Margaret said again. "That's how I knew what the potion smells like. Because…because I've taken it."

Every time Emma thought she understood her parents' convoluted backstory, something new came up. "You took it? Why?"

"My heart was broken," Mary Margaret said simply. "And I couldn't handle it." She looked away from Emma's sharp gaze. "It's not something I'm proud of. I was young – much younger than Regina, of course, and I thought I could mask my feelings by making them go away. Your father was betrothed. We both wanted to be together, but it…wasn't possible. I had to leave him to save his life."

She looked up to see Emma's reaction. Emma's expression was unreadable, but she nodded for her mother to continue.

"I thought I would never see him again," Mary Margaret continued. "And I had good reason to think that. But David, he…" She smiled at the memory. "He came back for me. He'd left his betrothed and risked his father's wrath, all for me. But it was too late. I'd already taken the potion."

"It sounds like your reason was a hell of a lot better than Regina's," Emma said. But there was no anger in her voice. She had sympathy for her mother's troubled past – and for Regina's, too. They'd been young, and Emma felt like it was important to forgive and forget, especially since she hadn't been there.

What she didn't have sympathy for were _stupid fucking choices_ that were _still being fucking made_.

"Maybe it was," Mary Margaret said, "but it wasn't good enough. It taught me that suffering makes us who we are. That's something Regina's never understood."

Emma nodded. "I know that. She doesn't handle her feelings very well." Then something hit her. "But obviously you remembered Dad. He broke the spell. How?"

"It's…complicated," Mary Margaret said after a moment. "True love's kiss didn't do it, because I didn't know I loved him. Just like Regina doesn't know she loves you."

It was the first time Emma had ever heard anybody say that Regina must love her. Her mother said it as a simple statement of fact, like it was obvious to everybody else except for the two of them. Emma felt tears prick her eyes for what must have been the thousandth time that day, but for a different reason.

"So then what am I supposed to do?" she said. She felt hopeless, like there would never be a way to put this right. Would she ever know the Regina she…_loved_…again?

Mary Margaret placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "You have to keep trying. You can't give up." Emma was used to her mother's sympathy and empathetic smiles, but this was different. Her voice was steady and firm. It actually made Emma believe that things were going to be all right.

Emma nodded, blinking the tears away. She straightened her shoulders. "So you think I should go and try to talk to her."

"No!" Mary Margaret said. "No. That's not what I meant. You can't just go bolting in there, Emma. We need a plan. And we need to figure out what she does and what she doesn't remember before you do anything."

"Well, how are we supposed to figure it out yet if I can't talk to her?" Emma asked, frustrated. "She's not going to open up to Henry."

"She's not going to open up to you either," Mary Margaret pointed out gently. "Henry's the best hope we have."

Emma knew she was right, but she didn't want to believe it. It killed her knowing that she was no longer close to the person who had always meant the most to her. That Regina would rather talk to Henry than to her, the person she had shared everything…well, almost everything…with. It was hard to explain their connection when Emma knew Regina kept things from her, but she understood. Regina's past was dark and murky, and Emma had never needed the details to know she wanted to be with her.

"Okay," she said. "I'll shoot him a text. We need to get one of his walkie-talkies and arrange a good old fashioned stakeout."

Mary Margaret nodded, satisfied. "Now that sounds like a plan."

* * *

It had been easy to get Henry to come back outside. He still had his phone, and Regina didn't seem to be paying him too much attention. Mary Margaret was having a long and involved phone conversation with David about what was going on, so explaining the plan had fallen to Emma.

"We're going to be right across the street in the Bug," Emma had told him. "What we need from you is another undercover mission. You've got to place the walkie-talkie somewhere she can't see it, without her noticing. Turn the volume all the way up so we can hear. Ours will be on mute."

"What do you want me to find out?" Henry asked. Normally he was always up for secret missions and playing spy, but this time he looked downright miserable. Emma's heart ached for him.

"Hey," she'd said, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. "It's going to be okay, kid. We're going to work this out. Once we get the information we need to figure out how we can best help her, we'll be on our way to breaking the spell. And you're going to be really, really important to helping us do this, okay? Do you want to give it a code name? Operation...I don't know, Bear?"

"I'm not a kid anymore, Emma," Henry said. And it was true. He was almost at eye level with both of his mothers now, and growing so fast Emma was afraid that if she blinked she might miss him. When had he gotten so mature all of a sudden?

"I know," she said, frowning. "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to help."

"Well, if you want to help..." he'd replied thoughtfully after a moment's consideration, "you should know that Bear is a stupid codename. I think Rattlesnake, because of its venom." And a small smile curved up the corners of his lips.

Emma grinned back. "Now that's more like it. Operation Rattlesnake it is!"

They'd agreed he would talk to Regina at 7:00, right after dinner. She was so prompt and organized that dinner was always on the table exactly at 6:00 and cleared away by 6:30. That, they reasoned, gave her enough time to settle down. And while she cleaned the dishes, Henry would be able to hide the walkie-talkie in her office.

"Just a few questions," Emma had instructed firmly. "Make sure you stick to the script. Don't say anything that might make her confused; don't make her suspicious by bringing up things you know she can't remember. And _definitely_ don't mention my name." She did have a faint hope that if Regina heard her name it might stir up some memories, but then again, she was also pretty sure that wasn't how spells worked.

"I won't, Mom," Henry said, rolling his eyes. "I think I'm pretty good at this stuff by now."

Emma had smiled, both at him calling her Mom and at his statement. He was growing up, but not quite as fast as she'd feared. "You really are. We're counting on you, kid."

And now it was 6:55, and the walkie-talkie was already in place. They could hear papers shuffling, keys clicking, and the occasional sigh or cough from Regina that made Emma's heart ache. She wished she were there more than anything, and the farther they got from the fight, the more sure she was that they would have worked things out. And since Regina didn't even remember the fight...she'd say they were pretty far past it.

Tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them away. The time for being sad was long past. She was angry now, and she wanted to remember that. Keeping herself so furious at Regina that she didn't have time to think about what she'd lost was the only thing that was going to carry her through all of this.

"Almost time," Mary Margaret murmured from beside her. "You okay?"

"Yeah!" Emma said, too brightly. "I'm good. Kinda nervous." That was just about the understatement of the year. Ever since this had started, she'd been a constant ball of anxiety and nerves. The sooner they broke the spell, the better.

"Henry," they heard Regina say all of a sudden. "I thought you said you'd be in your room playing video games for the rest of the night."

As if on instinct, both Mary Margaret and Emma leaned in towards the walkie-talkie, as if it might help them understand something they wouldn't have otherwise caught.

"I know," Henry said, "but I just wanted to talk with you about something. Just really quick. I'm sorry for bothering you."

They heard Regina sigh. "Henry, you know you never bother me. What is it?"

"Well, I thought I might go get some ice cream with Mary Margaret tomorrow," they heard Henry begin. It was a test, of course. Since Regina clearly had no idea who Emma was, they wanted to know if she still understood Henry's relationship to the Charmings. If so, helping her to fill in the blanks promised to be a hell of a lot easier. "And I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you first."

"Miss Blanchard?" came Regina's dangerously low voice. "And just why would you do that?"

Emma groaned, sliding down in her seat. If Regina's tone of voice was any indication, she didn't consider herself to be close to or even on good terms with Mary Margaret. Which meant they were looking at their worst-case scenario. If Regina didn't have the Charmings and she didn't have Emma, who did she have? She'd be withdrawn into herself and there was no way of knowing how long it would take for Emma to coax her back out.

But they'd gone over this possibility with Henry, and he knew what to say. "I just thought it might be nice, because – "

"Why were you with her today?" Regina interrupted. "I can't think of a single reason you would need to see her at all, let alone twice in a row."

Emma and Mary Margaret exchanged glances. Regina was even more unhappy about this than they'd expected. She seemed unnervingly similar to the insecure, controlling woman Emma had met on her first day in Storybrooke.

"Um," Henry stuttered. "Well, she's...she's family."

"No!" Emma yelled aloud, slamming her hands on the steering wheel. "Damn it, Henry, that was NOT in the plan!"

"Emma!" Mary Margaret shushed her. "We need to be able to hear!"

"Family?" they heard Regina say, voice laced with a concerned skepticism. "What do you mean, she's family?"

"She's your stepdaughter," Henry clarified, to Emma's vast relief. Regina obviously didn't realize Mary Margaret was Henry's grandmother, but there was no reason for her to think he wouldn't know about the relationship between Snow White and the Evil Queen. "So I just mean, that makes her my stepsister, I want to get to know her better."

"Now there's a weird but totally true idea," Mary Margaret muttered, and Emma grinned.

"I just try not to think about it."

"That woman is _not_ my family," Regina said sharply after a moment's pause. "And she's not yours either. I want you to stay away from her, Henry."

"But she is," Henry persisted. "You should give her another chance, Mom."

"I – what's that under your arm?"

Emma and Mary Margaret exchanged glances. They hadn't talked about him taking anything in there, which meant Henry had decided to come up with a new plan on his own. Not surprising, of course.

"What, this?" they heard Henry ask. "It's just my book. Here, do you want to see?"

"Fairy tales?" they heard Regina say disapprovingly as pages flipped in the background. "Henry, I thought we put this little obsession to bed years ago."

Emma was beginning to get a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. What if this was even worse than they'd thought?

"Little obsession?" Henry asked, sounding confused, and then, "Why would you think that?"

"Because I had you put in therapy, and then..." There was a pause from Regina. "Well, you're not in therapy anymore, are you?"

Emma couldn't tell if that was a question or not, and apparently neither could Henry. "Um...no?"

"Good," Regina said. "Then it's settled." They heard the sound of a book slamming. "Henry, I'm going to hang onto this for a while. I don't want to have to revisit this again."

"Revisit what?" they heard Henry ask. He sounded on edge, Emma noticed. Just like her, gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were turning white, and just like Mary Margaret, who'd been biting the nails on her right hand ever since Henry had brought out the book. Maybe he knew, maybe they all knew, but maybe they didn't want to face it.

"This fairy tale nonsense," Regina said, confirming their fears. "I don't want to hear any more about it. Now I think it's time you go off to bed."

Mary Margaret reached over and turned off the walkie-talkie. They'd heard all they needed. Emma squeezed her eyes shut as nausea began to churn her stomach. _This can't be happening._

"She doesn't know," Mary Margaret whispered.

It made sense, of course. Emma was intricately linked with the breaking of the curse. If Regina didn't remember her, then she couldn't have remembered the Savior. And if she didn't remember the Savior, well...Emma wasn't sure how to take this. It suddenly made an amnesiac Regina far more dangerous, and judging from the dark look on Mary Margaret's face, she wasn't alone in that assessment.

This wasn't the Regina she'd been with for the past few months, or even the Regina she'd tentatively called a friend. This was the Regina who had once promised to destroy her at all costs.

And it was definitely a new worst-case scenario.

* * *

"What does this mean for us?" Emma asked, staring bleakly at the steering wheel. "I just...she doesn't remember _anything_ from the past five years?"

"She must remember some things," Mary Margaret said. "But truth be told, Emma, she doesn't have a ton of interaction with people outside of us. We're her family, and if she doesn't remember that, then there's not much else for her to remember. And it means there's a lot more work for us to do. We need to break this spell as soon as possible, and we're going to have to figure out a way to keep her in check until then."

"How?" Emma asked, lifting her head. "How are we supposed to do that? She doesn't remember the way she feels about me or you, she's clearly not going to listen to Henry, and she doesn't even know the curse is broken. So how, Mary Margaret?"

And Mary Margaret, who had been the voice of reason and knowledge throughout all of this, just bit her lip and looked away.

"I don't know."

It wasn't much later that Henry came bolting out of the house in a panic. Emma and Mary Margaret stepped out of the car to meet him, and his words tumbled out in a rush. "She doesn't know. She doesn't know _anything_. Did you hear her? She doesn't know _anything_!"

"Yeah, kid, we heard," Emma said wearily. "We just don't know what we're going to do about it."

"What if she never remembers?" He looked like he was going to cry. "What if this is what she's like from now on and she never changes back?"

"That's not going to happen," Mary Margaret said firmly. "Henry, we _will_ break this spell. And if we don't, well...then we'll just have to teach her all over again. I promise you, we won't let her stay like this forever. It's not even possible! She won't be able to make one move in this town as..."

Her voice trailed off before she could say _The Evil Queen_.

"You made a good choice with the book," Emma said, trying to detract Henry's attention from the ending of that sentence. He didn't smile at the compliment.

"I was hoping that she'd see the story with you and remember," he said. "I didn't know that...Emma, what are we going to do?"

"Well, like I was saying," Mary Margaret broke in, "if not us, she'll find out from _somebody_. Nobody's going to pretend to be cursed, and they're especially not going to pretend to treat her like royalty."

Emma nodded. "And she should find out from us. I don't know what she'll do if she finds out from somebody else. This Regina is unpredictable. If she's scared, she'll lash out. And she has magic. The only ones who'd be 100% safe from her are me and Henry."

"So I get to be there?" Henry asked.

"You're going to have to be," Mary Margaret said. "I know what we're going to do, and it has to be done as soon as possible – tomorrow morning, before she has a chance to interact with anybody else. Henry, we'll need you to get her there."

"You mean—?" Emma began.

"Yes," Mary Margaret said decisively. "It's time you introduced yourself."


	3. Confrontation

Emma and Mary Margaret had gotten there early to talk with Ruby and Granny, who understood the gravity of the situation and agreed to keep the main room of the diner clear of guests. Emma had made Henry reassure her over and over the night before that he would be able to get Regina there, until he'd finally told them to leave so that he could get some sleep.

And to be honest, Emma had needed the sleep too. She was exhausted from crying and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. As a bonus, when she woke up, she didn't look like absolute garbage anymore, and was able to throw on some makeup and a nice shirt. With Regina, it never hurt to look good.

She didn't realize how nervous she was until Mary Margaret reached out and put a gentle hand on her arm. "Emma, sweetie, you're shaking the table."

Emma paused, becoming conscious of her right leg's persistent jiggling and the way her fists were clenching and unclenching almost as if they had a mind of their own. "Right. Sorry."

"No need to apologize," her mother said with a sympathetic smile. Emma was infinitely grateful for her presence, even though she'd only be able to support her until it was time for her to go in to speak with Regina.

"I wish you could come with me," she said. Everything would be a lot easier if all Mary Margaret had to do was sit down and start talking about their shared past. Unfortunately, every time Regina looked at her, it was with venom in her eyes. It was obvious Regina was still thinking of her as the enemy, and there was no telling what she might do to her when she realized she not only had magic but her most hated nemesis helpless in front of her.

"I know," Mary Margaret said, squeezing her arm. "But I really think it's best that it comes from you. For a lot of reasons."

Emma nodded. They'd both been afraid Regina was going to do something stupid – something _evil_ – now that she didn't have the past four years of struggling to be better, and David had wanted to just throw her in a cell and be done with it. Of course, Mary Margaret and Emma had shut that idea down immediately. They didn't have a way to control her, and besides, it would be highly counterproductive. There was no way Regina would trust them after that…and the chances of her trusting them were already pretty slim.

Add that to the growing list of things currently pissing Emma the fuck off. She couldn't stop thinking about how selfish it had been for Regina to do this. She hadn't thought of _anybody_ but herself – didn't she realize how much she might forget? If people were in danger because of her, didn't she realize she'd lose everything she'd fought so hard to gain?

And didn't she realize how she'd never forgive herself if she hurt them?

Her watch beeped, and Emma looked at it like it signaled the march to her own execution. They were sitting at a table in the back room of the diner, so Regina probably wouldn't see them when she came in, but they'd decided it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Are you ready?" Mary Margaret asked, standing. The back exit had been unlocked for them. Emma was going to be coming around to the front, and Mary Margaret was going to wait around the side of the diner, ready to intervene if there was any sort of…to be honest, Emma wasn't sure what Mary Margaret thought she was going to do in the event Regina decided to use her magic. But she liked the idea of her mother being just a few feet away. It made her feel a lot less alone.

"Not really," she murmured, standing up. "Mom, I'm not sure I can do this."

"Of course you can," her mother replied, taking her hand and squeezing it. "Who better to handle this than you, Emma? She loves you, even if she doesn't know it, and besides…you're the Savior." Emma must have visibly flinched at the term, because Mary Margaret added, "You are! There is nobody better to break this curse."

"Yeah, well, I don't think it's getting broken today," Emma said with a frown.

Mary Margaret's smile dipped a little. "I know. But soon. We just have to believe."

Emma shook her head. "No. _She_ does."

As they walked outside, the plan ping-ponged inside Emma's head. Say hello. Sit down. Introduce herself. Make small talk. Gradually broach the topic of the curse, see how she reacts, then just go from there. It should be easy. She'd known Regina for long enough to know what she'd best respond to, and with any luck she'd be able to easily slip into their old repertoire.

"Wait!" And suddenly Emma found herself pressed against the side of the building, or rather felt it. Her head smacked the brick so hard her vision blurred.

"Ow! What the hell, Mom?" she demanded, eyes watering as she rubbed the back of her head. She knew it hadn't been hard enough to do any real damage, but if it ruined her hair, Regina would be that much less likely to listen to her.

She couldn't believe she was actually worrying about her hair.

"I'm so sorry!" Mary Margaret whispered, eyes wide. "Are you okay? I just, I saw her car, and I didn't want her to see us coming from the back when—"

Emma held up a hand to stop her. "No, it's okay, I'm fine. You're right. Did she go in?"

Mary Margaret peeked around the corner. "The car is parked." She looked her daughter over one last time before enveloping her in a hug. "Good luck, Emma."

The walk from the back of the building to the front might just have been the longest minute of Emma's life. Her anxiety was rising, no thanks to the bump forming on the back of her head, and the growling of her stomach wasn't helping matters either.

As she rounded the corner, she caught sight of Henry through the front window. He'd positioned himself so that he'd be the one to see her first, which she was grateful for. And he looked almost as anxious as she did. She felt bad for him, trapped in a house with someone who by all rights simply shouldn't exist anymore. Here she was, panicking over having to face Regina for one conversation, when Henry had to actually live with her.

"It's rather empty in here today, isn't it?" she heard Regina comment in her politely tolerant voice as Emma pushed open the door to the diner. The fact that she loved Henry wasn't in doubt. But the way she'd shown it before the curse had broken – and during most of the year after – left a lot to be desired.

Emma made eye contact with Henry and gave him a quick wave. He looked extremely relieved to see her, then gave her a pointed look. She tilted her head in response before realizing she'd been standing in the same spot for a good thirty seconds.

"What's going on?" Regina asked him, sounding more annoyed than confused. "Why are you making those faces at me?"

Emma took a deep breath before speaking. "Regina."

Regina turned her head quickly, brief surprise fading back into her neutral expression with a speed that could only come with decades of practice. "Ah. You again. I see you can speak after all."

Emma ignored the snark, something she'd become highly adept at over the past few years, and walked over to the table. "We need to talk."

Henry slid over so she could sit down, and Regina raised her eyebrows. "Well then. I don't recall inviting you to our private family breakfast, Miss...?"

"Swan," Emma said. "Emma Swan."

She'd been secretly hoping that would ring a bell somewhere in Regina's subconscious, but Regina didn't react to the name at all. "Well, Emma Swan, what is it that you want?"

"Just to talk," Emma said lightly. She was trying to sound nonchalant, but in actuality, her heart was pounding so loud she'd be shocked if neither of them could hear it. "And actually, Henry invited me."

"Did he," Regina said, raising her eyebrows at her son. "He failed to mention it."

"Oh, did I forget?" Henry asked, trying and failing to look earnest. "I guess I did. Sorry, Mom."

Regina narrowed her eyes as she cross-examined them for far longer than was comfortable. Emma refused to drop her eyes, instead meeting Regina's gaze head-on.

"Just who exactly are you, Miss Swan?" Regina asked. "I've never seen you in this town before, and as mayor, I know _everyone_."

Henry and Emma exchanged a glance that must not have gone unnoticed, because Regina added irritably, "I can see you, you know." It was the tone of voice she used when Henry got a low grade at school, or when Emma spilled some ice cream on the floor and forgot to clean it up. Emma knew it meant she'd better start talking.

"I'm…" Emma started. She paused, trying to recall the script. But Regina's gaze was so sharp and intimidating that she found she couldn't remember a word. Under normal circumstances, this wasn't a look that could scare her, but these weren't normal circumstances. "I'm…Emma."

Regina snorted, looking so goddamn condescending that Emma felt the sudden urge to slap her. "Yes. You've already told me that."

As it often did for Emma, anger quickly replaced fear. "Right. I just thought I should repeat it, since you don't remember it from the last couple thousand times we've met." And she knew she shouldn't just be jumping straight into this, but all the fury from the last 24 hours had come rushing through her until she just couldn't contain it anymore.

Regina raised her eyebrows, irritatingly calm and poised as always. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Emma said, ignoring Henry's persistent kicking from under the table. "I said, we've met before."

"I don't think so," Regina replied. She looked almost amused, which just made Emma even angrier. "As I said, I know everybody in this town."

"Well, I'm not from this town," Emma snapped. She knew she had Regina's attention now, and she returned her gaze with a furious glare. "I'm from somewhere else. Just like you. Just like everybody else here."

"What are you talking about?" Regina asked. But she didn't look amused anymore, and there was an edge to her voice that hadn't been there before. "I assure you, Miss Swan, I was born in this town, as were the majority of our citizens. We have the birth certificates to prove it."

"I know that's not true, Regina." Emma leaned across the table, locking eyes with her. Neither one of them blinked. "Want to guess how?"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of ruining your fun, _dear_," Regina said dryly. "Trust me, I'm simply _dying_ to hear your explanation."

Emma waited a second before speaking, letting the tension build. "Because I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming."

She leaned back into her seat as Regina let out a surprised laugh. Emma could tell she'd gotten to her, though, because it was strained, and her eyes darkened. "So this is about the fairy tales."

"They're not fairy tales and we all know it," Emma said, still refusing to drop her gaze. "Regina, the curse is broken. It was broken a long time ago. By me."

"By you," Regina repeated sardonically. "You managed to break a curse that doesn't exist? Congratulations."

"Give it up, Regina," Emma said, exasperated. "Who do you think you're fooling? Henry and I are the only ones here, and we both know the truth. Everyone in this town knows the truth!"

"Oh really?" Regina snapped, looking around. "Where has our waitress gone? Why don't we ask her what she thinks about all this?"

"You mean Red Riding Hood?" Henry asked innocently, earning himself an irritated look of disbelief from one mother and a warning glance from the other.

"These _are_ fairy tales, Miss Swan," Regina said. Emma knew her well enough to know that she was fighting to keep panic from her voice. "I don't know how my son managed to convince you otherwise, but you are in dire need of a reality check."

No matter how furious Emma was, the sound of her lover in distress always made the anger drain right out of her. Her eyes softened, and she gave Regina a sympathetic smile that was met only with a sharp glare.

"Look, Regina," Emma started, reaching for her hand on instinct. Regina made a noise of disgust and yanked it away, making Emma feel way more rejected than it should have. She hovered her own hand uncertainly above the table before pulling it back. "I can prove it. I can tell you about your family history. That's something there's no way I could know without this being true. Your mother Cora, your father Henry – "

"—Are easily things Henry could have told you about," Regina snapped. "And clearly did."

"I'm not talking about Christmas dinners and happy memories!" Emma's voice began to rise again. "I'm talking about your evil bitch of a mother killing your fiancé. Killing Daniel. I'm talking about you ripping out your own father's heart to cast this curse!"

Regina didn't quite manage to separate the shock from the fury. "How _dare_ you—"

"And I'm talking about the reason you cast this curse," Emma pushed on. "Snow White. Still your family, right? Little ten-year-old who spilled a secret accidentally that you held a grudge against for your entire adult life?"

"You're delusional," Regina snarled, her face twisting with contempt. "These are all things Henry has told me before. They're stories from his book. _Stories_, Miss Swan. They aren't real!"

Henry, looking terrified, pressed himself against the corner of the booth like he was trying to disappear. Emma looked at him and bit down on her tongue. For his sake, she needed to try to calm things down. "Regina, look at me. Really look."

"Oh, I'm looking," Regina said. Emma had been on her bad side countless times and still never seen this particular expression of rage. "Trust me, I'm looking."

"And what do you see?" Emma pleaded. "You _know_ me, Regina. We've been...friends...for years. Henry didn't tell me these things about your family. And I didn't read about them in his book. _You_ told me...because we're family too."

"What I see is a woman who is so desperate for companionship that she's willing to believe anything," Regina said coldly. "I assure you, we are _not_ family. If we were friends or even casual acquaintances, I would know who you are. Aside from yesterday, this is the first time we've had the displeasure of meeting, and I promise you it will be the last."

"It's not the first time we've met!" Emma said, her frustration starting to show again. "Look. There was a memory potion, and—"

"A memory potion," Regina scoffed. "That does seem to conveniently fit your narrative."

Emma shook her head in disgust. There wasn't much point in elaborating, because Regina had clearly already made up her mind: they were crazy and no amount of words was going to change her opinion. She didn't know what else she could do, but she did know that she couldn't give up.

"You don't believe us," she said, stating the obvious for lack of anything better. It wasn't a question, and Regina didn't answer it. "What can we do to convince you?"

Regina leaned forward, bracing her hands on the table as she stood up. "There's nothing you can do to _convince_ me, Miss Swan. You've managed to fall victim to my son's delusions, and you should seek psychiatric help. I know a good therapist if you'd like a referral."

"Come on, Regina," Emma said a little more desperately than she intended. She knew she was losing her, but then suddenly an idea hit her. "What about – what about the magic in the air? I know you can feel it. It wasn't there before the curse broke and you know it."

"The only thing I _know_," Regina said sharply, "is that you are furthering the delusions of a child who is obviously in need of help. The last thing he needs is some woman trying to fill the loneliness in her own pathetic life. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"But Mom – " Henry started.

"No!" Regina snapped. "Henry, enough of this. We're going. Now!" And Emma couldn't believe she actually shoved the table aside to get him out. Henry looked like he wasn't sure what to do, and didn't resist when Regina grabbed him by the arm.

Emma couldn't let Regina just walk away now, not after all this. They'd gone far enough that there would be no chance of Regina letting either her near Henry anytime soon. Plus, if she left she'd be heading for work, where she'd be interacting with people all day long, and Emma wasn't sure Mary Margaret would be able to confront her in time. That was Plan B, and it was not ideal, but Plan C – where she learned the truth from a random townsperson – was even worse. No, she couldn't let her leave.

"What are you doing?" Regina demanded as Emma leapt up to block her exit. "Get out of my way."

"How about this, then," Emma said. "If you won't listen to facts, then maybe you'll listen to feelings."

She saw Henry's eyebrows raise at that, and realized it had sounded more sexual than she'd meant it to. And it was sexual, sometimes. But more than that, it was their connection. They felt it every time they touched, and it had to be enough to convince Regina of the truth.

"What are you talking about?" Regina snapped. Emma could tell she was struggling not to use physical force. "Miss Swan, this conversation is _over_. Get out of my way!"

"I'm talking about magic," Emma said, biting her lip with determination. And she grabbed Regina's hand before she could stop her and let the emotions flow through her – let the emotions flow through _them_. She felt the magic begin to swirl and heard Regina let out a startled gasp. Blindly, she reached out her other hand to grope for Regina's. When she found it, Regina didn't pull away.

Regina felt both different and entirely the same. Emma could sense her body, could feel each individual limb like they were her own, but it was more than that. They could feel each other's essence. And that's what was different; it was unmistakably Regina but it was frayed and broken and desperate in a way Emma couldn't quite understand. Had Regina really managed to undo years' worth of healing? Healing that had nothing to do with the Savior or the curse?

Or was it something else? Emma pushed a little deeper, probing until she could feel Regina struggling to keep her out. And even though Regina no longer had the practice Emma did and wouldn't truly have been able to block her, she dropped back regardless. She didn't want to ruin this shaky newfound bond they were forming, and if the strong sense of wonderment she was feeling from Regina was any indication, neither did she.

She could feel Regina testing the connection, clumsily stumbling through the bond in what would almost have been an endearing manner if it hadn't been so uncomfortable. Emma tried to guide her, only to be shoved back in a very plain _I-can-do-this-myself_ manner. And Emma wasn't sure what exactly she was trying to do, so she just held the connection and she watched and she thought about the damage in Regina's soul and she wondered if it was because she wasn't there anymore or if that was selfish and stupid.

But she didn't want Regina to know that. Actually, she didn't want Regina to know anything about their relationship at all. Emma knew that she would find out sooner or later, and that she might even have a strong suspicion just from this, but she couldn't help the desire to have Regina realize she loved her all on her own. Besides, she'd actually already talked it over with Mary Margaret and Henry, and they'd decided to keep it a secret as long as possible. Everyone had agreed that Regina would be far less likely to let herself love Emma if she thought she was _supposed_ to.

Regina was pressing at these surface thoughts, clearly frustrated with the ease at which Emma blocked her, and not going for the redirections she was being offered. Emma was honestly surprised she'd allowed the connection to continue for this long. It was more vulnerability than Regina had given her even when they'd first begun dating and doing – well, this – all those months ago. She wondered if it was because on some level, Regina remembered her. And if that was true, Emma definitely wanted to know about it.

So she concentrated on emotions. It was difficult to separate her own from Regina's, but she managed to push aside her own nervousness and apprehension. In addition to the awe, she could feel shock and fear and confusion from Regina, but there was something else there too. Something almost like…hope? And Emma couldn't tell what it was fueled by, so she pushed, and then—

—she felt the connection break as the hands on hers slipped away, and she felt a deep sense of loss. It was almost like a weird sort of withdrawal, somehow. Maybe a side effect from not having connected with her in far longer than she was used to…or maybe from not knowing when she'd be able to again. She wondered if Regina could feel it too.

Her head was still reeling, and she shook it to clear it. Henry was staring at them in shock. This wasn't something they'd shown him before: they considered it intimate; something private that only they shared. Unfortunately, Emma's quick glance into the other room of the diner told her that half of Storybrooke was going to know about it by noon, and she ardently wished it hadn't been necessary.

"What – what the hell was that?" Regina stuttered, clearly trying to regain her composure as she pulled her hand away, pressing it tightly to her chest almost as if to protect it. "What did you just do?"

"Don't you know?" Emma asked quietly. She stared at Regina, who avoided her eyes like they hadn't just been connected on a level deeper than either of them would ever be able to connect with anybody else.

Regina shook her head. "It's not possible. That's – what just happened is not possible."

"Really?" Emma said. She reached for Regina's hand again, but Regina took two quick steps back like she was afraid Emma's touch would burn her.

"That isn't what I meant," Regina said. "I mean it's _not_ _possible_ for that to happen. Magic or no magic…that has never happened with anybody else. Who are you?"

"I already told you," Emma said, purposefully dodging the question. "I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming."

Regina shook her head again, now looking at Emma with trepidation. "No. Who are you to _me_?"

"She's a friend," Henry cut in before Emma could think of some sort of excuse to explain why they were able to connect like that. "She's a really, really good friend, Mom. And your magic is compatible because she's the Savior and because it was your curse. She was light and you were dark and when light combines with dark, that's what happens."

And Emma wasn't sure she was going to accept that explanation, but Regina glanced to the side and was visibly taken aback by the number of people watching them from the doorway to the other room. She looked back to her family with an expression Emma seldom saw on her – anxiety. Fear.

"Do you believe us?" Emma asked. It was gentle, and she knew the answer, but she needed to hear it out loud.

"Yes," Regina said quietly. "I believe you."

And damn it, she just looked _so_ _much_ like a kicked puppy dog that Emma couldn't resist the urge to lean forward and kiss her.

So she did.

**[A/N: This was a really fun chapter to write. Thanks so much to everyone who's been following/faveing/reviewing! :)]**


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